Ancient Evils Revisited (or my old roommate)

For those (very) few who have been around for a long time, you may remember my old roommate, Stacey, who I fled a little over a year ago. He’s the one who told me that I should do yoga…when not two weeks before I had literally had part of my intestines ripped out and had a bit of them removed. I nearly died, actually. Afterwards, I was home on leave, high on Oxycodone, healing from the staples and trauma, watching Spongebob, and my single greatest achievement was walking to the mailbox and back and only stopping one time. My roommate, Stacey, was not suggesting that I do yoga in the future, but that I go that week with him.

And that was the least of his stupidity.

He was one of those people so desperate for attention that he would do anything to get it. He was socially retarded, saying and doing totally inappropriate things, thinking he was funny when he was actually lame (best) or friendship-ruining offensive (worst). He started losing weight, though he was never fat a day in his life, and decided that he was a heath guru and it was his duty to instruct others. He talked about yoga like he was a young high school girl and yoga was his new boyfriend. He did stretching exercises in front of the TV (scooting forward when we ignored his desperate pleas for attention). He was exceptionally needy and, after a billion years of fading friendship, I could not get away from him fast enough. I moved in to my own apartment and he moved in with this cute little gay boy he met at work.

In the small world that we live in, I ended up being friends with said gay boy who we will call Josiah. I had all but stopped talking to Stacey, but my friendship with Josiah was growing. I was very careful to not prejudice him against Stacey, because they seemed to be getting along.

As time passed, Stacey became increasingly needy and more socially reprehensible than ever. He was jealous of Josiah’s looks and youth, that his boyfriends were super cute, and that Josiah was young and together and was kicking life’s ass. Stacey and his Quasimodo boyfriend-adjacent thing eventually hit on Joseph and suggested a 3-to-4some. Josiah turned him down flat and, to his credit, was able to suppress his surging gag reflex.

To make a long story short, Josiah began talking to me about how irritating Stacey was becoming. He asked my advice, as I had lived with and been kinda friends with Stacey for a very long time. I suggested that if it got any worse, Josiah say something and then begin planning to move away from Stacey. Stacey began being jealous of Josiah’s time and was wondering why they never hung out anymore. Josiah finally told Stacey.

Stacey was good for a whole week. Then, desperate to prove that he was a good friend, he began clinging to Josiah like an octopus coated liberally in superglue and jam.

Both Josiah and I were very busy for a while and we didn’t talk for several months. I got a text from Josiah as I was packing, telling me that he missed me, that he was moving in with his boyfriend, and that he getting the hell away from Stacey. They had the talk about three months before they were going to part ways.

Flash forward two months and my other friend e-mails me, asking if something was wrong with Stacey. Apparently, Stacey posted on Facebook that he doesn’t like asking for any help (which I laughed long and hard over), but that he had less than a month to get out and needed a place to stay. He made it seem like Josiah had only just told him that they were parting ways, which I don’t believe, but it would serve him right, with all the bullshit he pulled on me when we were living together (a month before the lease was up, he would inform me that he wasn’t going to renew…and then waffle for a few weeks. He did this three times.) Stacey made himself seem like a victim, which he could get away with because none of his friends really know Josiah that well. He could also pretend that he was unable to find a place, that he was totally out of ideas, etc.

False.

He was out of friends who would put up with him. I’m only proud (and envious) that Josiah got out after only a year. The quasi-sympathy poured in and Stacey reveled in it. Now, let me be honest: Stacey is full of rancid bullshit and gopher entrails. When it looked like things weren’t going to work out for me in my new place (mostly due to the shock of living totally alone for a year and now having two roommates), I popped on Craigslist and found about 5 places with good prices (not as good as what I’m paying now), in the same area I left and Stacey still lives in. I found these listings within 30 minutes while watching a movie.

Simply put — Stacey didn’t look. He wanted sympathy. He wanted to seem like the victim. He was on the stage as he always is. The “sympathy” consisted of “That sucks. I hate moving! Good luck!” and not one offer. Nobody suggested anything. Stacey’s moment to shine is over. He’ll find a place. He’s not a genius, but neither is he stupid. He wanted attention because he drove yet another person away with his stellar personality.

Standing apart from my time as his roommate, I can honestly say that I feel sorry for Stacey and wish him the best. And I wish, deeply and with all the sincerity that I can muster, that this thirty-seven year old person can finally grow up and realize that, when he doesn’t try so much and stops acting like an obnoxious twat, he is actually a good person.

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~ by Darren Endymion on March 24, 2014.

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